Howard Norman - Devotion

“But Dory — it was a cruel thing to do, though she’s not cruel. Told Maggie the whole sordid thing. Maggie drove home and confronted me. Then she told Janice. Then she packed a suitcase for herself and one for Janice. They drove to Halifax and stayed for five nights. Janice continued on to visit her sister in Edinburgh for a month. When she came back it was the ice age in my house for a long time. Eventually things were workable. But once trust gets dropped — and I dropped Janice’s like an anvil from — what floor was your London hotel room on? From the fourth floor of a hotel. And I never entirely got it back. Mostly, but not completely.”

They sat awhile; David fell asleep without meaning to, just nodded off despite the moment; William thought it was a reprieve. Finally William woke him up. “Lately I’ve given things a lot of thought. Take it or leave it. It’s not meant as advice, just observation. But it occurred to me, in reliving what I put Maggie through with my dallying, that it might just be one reason Maggie’s so— unforgiving. Mind you, I said one reason. I mean, connect the dots, David. Whatever you did or didn’t do in that hotel room wasn’t the same stupidity, but it had certain approximations.”

David wrote another note: That couldn’t have been easy to say. But you’ve worn me out.

Without another word, William took up the albums and left the room. But he telephoned David from the lobby. David managed, “William,” because who else would it be?

“I don’t feel I’m wasting my loose change here,” William said. “The thing is, young couples, when they’re courting, they have to feel like they’re inventing happiness, eh? Inventing it. Because they’re supposed to feel that. They can’t help it. Nothing new in this.

“As far as I could tell, you and Margaret had what I’d call a whirlwind courtship. All through she kept calling me, keeping me apprised, to the extent she chose to. I mean, how you flew back and forth, Halifax-London, London-Halifax. Maggie almost used up her savings, did you know that? ‘I’m spending the weekend in London, Pop,’ was not the prudent Margaret I knew. Prudent of heart and prudent of purse is a world of difference. Even a protective father understands that fact of life. I was following her the way that dotted line in the old wartime movies showed a ship or airplane crossing the Atlantic Ocean. I knew Margaret was head over heels. And how that boosted my spirits on her behalf.

“I’m not going to predict the future. Whoever’s in the prediction business is a damned fool. But as for the past, I like to think of you and my daughter inventing happiness. But then along comes that London hotel room. What was I supposed to do, David, not tell my own daughter what I saw? Did you think it was a separate moral universe or something, a hotel room? Anyway, for your information, with Margaret I didn’t speculate past sheer description, just that I saw a woman standing in her bathrobe. Obviously that was enough to set things in motion. I knew it. No matter what the whole truth was. The day after your honeymoon, lord in heaven.”

William listened a moment; with every possible effort, David managed, “I know our daughter’s due on November ninth.” They both hung up.

In his hospital bed, David wondered if pain might sharpen his comprehension of what William had said. To that effect, he considered refusing the next round of morphine. Besides, if he felt competent at anything, it was sleepless nights. He was an expert, one might say.

ON JULY 27, Maggie arrived at the estate at 7:30 in the morning. She sat with William at the kitchen table. He’d prepared hot cocoa. William wore his pajamas, robe, slippers. Maggie had on gym shorts, a sepia T-shirt under a white cotton blouse, no shoes. “You didn’t drive without shoes on, did you?” William said.

“I often do, in the summer.”

They spoke about things in general. Then Maggie said, “David’s proposed marriage.”

“No fool, is he? Have you decided when’s the wedding?”

“We were thinking in ten days.”

“Ten days?”

“I’ve already called everyone we want invited. They’re all available. That’s good luck from the get-go, I’d say. David has no family. I’ve told you, his mother and father are gone. Buried in Vancouver. He’s got no family but you and me.”

“Who’s going to stand up for him?”

“He is.”

“And for you?”

“Frannie Dunsmore.”

“Your closest friend since when, sixth form or so? It’ll be good to see her again. In ten days.”

“I know it’s short notice. But it’ll be an informal wedding. I asked Dory to make the wedding cake. Just so you know.”

“Of course she’s not invited to the ceremony.”

“Would I do that?”

“All right, then, a lot can get done in ten days.”

“Some of the ensemble’s agreed to play.”

“How about that?”

“Anne Stevenson at the Glooskap said she’d arrange for food.”

“You can’t go wrong with Anne Stevenson and food. She’ll provide a feast. Possibly some surprises, too. Like the time she put cherry vodka in a summer soup. You might request that.”

“Wait here, Pop. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Maggie went upstairs, and when she returned she was wearing a Victorian-era white dress with a lace collar and hem.

“Your mother’s wedding dress seems to fit,” William said.

“Dad, you forgot to take the dry-cleaning tag off. Maybe you forgot on purpose, huh? Interesting, after all this time you suddenly get it in your head to have this dress cleaned in Truro.”

“I had an inkling.”

“An inkling to you is absolute fact for anyone else.”

“Who’s performing the ceremony?”

“I thought Robert Teachout.”

“Reverend Teachout? I thought he was long retired.”

“He’s not retired. People just don’t give him work anymore. He moved to Advocate Harbor.”

“You’ve done all your homework already. A bit skulking under the dark of night, though, don’t you think? Why couldn’t I know this big secret till now?”

“David proposed to me night before last.”

“Margaret, you’ve done things your own way since I can remember.” He took a sip of cocoa. “He didn’t get down on his knees, did he? He’s not a dramatic personage, is he?”

“As a matter of fact, no. He asked like a gentleman, not copied out of a book or movie. It was a genuine marriage proposal carried out in a thoughtful manner.”

“So I’m finally going to meet your David.”

“He’s at the pond.”

“I’ll go down there.”

“Let him come here, Pop. I’ll get him.”

“We’ll have ten days to get to know each other, then. That’s one hundred percent longer than no time at all.”

“Did you hope he’d ask for my hand in marriage?”

“Yes.”

“Please don’t start by testing his good breeding. He didn’t have a father at home much at all. He came to a lot of his knowledge of how to act on his own.”

“You asked, I answered, that’s all. He doesn’t need defending. Bring him up to the house. I’ll put on some more cocoa.”

They had every meal together after that. Maggie attended to wedding arrangements. She took David around to meet Dory Elliot when the cake was discussed. Midmorning on August i, William went to the guesthouse to get David. On the way, he saw David looking at the swans. They both stood there a moment, then William said, “Our veterinarian says these wing-clipped swans keep forgetting they can’t fly. The urge to fly is a million years older than their wound, so they forget. Now, that’s a sight — a swan who can’t fly. It’s as comical and heartbreaking as Buster Keaton trying to catch a bus.”